


falling softly (please catch me)

by Theo-Sev (Sevv7)



Category: RWBY
Genre: Anxiety, Dealing with mental health, Depression, Gen, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Near the end of V6
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2020-01-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22456831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sevv7/pseuds/Theo-Sev
Summary: It was fine. Everything was fine. No problem was insurmountable, they’d proven that already, just by getting here.But they nearly hadn’t.Qrow's mental health takes yet another dive down after RWBY+ get denied entry to Atlas.Please take the tags seriously and stay safe.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	falling softly (please catch me)

It was fine. Everything was fine. No problem was insurmountable, they’d proven that already, just by getting here. 

_But they nearly hadn’t._

Wouldn’t have - Qrow certainly - if not for his nieces and their friends and that strange old woman who proclaimed to be Qrow’s childhood idol. And now, here they were again, faced with yet another obstacle.

_We’ll figure it out._

But what if they didn’t? What if Qrow had over-reached, what if they couldn’t solve this and the Lamp never made it to Atlas; Salem would find them eventually, and then what? What would happen? She’d kill them? Capture them? _Use_ them?

God. He was spiralling. He knew it. The thoughts churned below the surface. No amount of rationality soothed them for longer than precious short seconds.

Ruby was talking to someone. _Who?_ The Atlas woman. _Cordo… Corvin… Cordovin._ That was it, that felt right. She’d introduced herself minutes ago. But things kept slipping.

And talking was pointless. She’d said no. She’d _keep_ saying no. She was a dead end. There had to be something else they’d not considered. If only Qrow could just keep track of his thoughts for long enough to figure out what it was. And the kids were smart. It wasn’t all on him. He didn’t have to shoulder everything.

And that was obvious, because he wasn’t. He wasn’t shouldering _anything._ He was failing them. Over and over and over he was failing them. First with the Apathy… no, first was a long time before that. When _was_ the first time? The fall of Beacon? Earlier than that? Maybe, probably. He couldn’t keep track any more. Failures were too frequent and they cut too deep. He should stop. This line of thought wouldn’t help. He needed to be present, _here_. With them.

But he wasn’t. He was wrapped up in his own mind. Confused and helpless and angry. Thoughts that barely made sense brushed his consciousness. He didn’t acknowledge all of them. Shouldn’t really have acknowledged _any_ of them. But oh if that wasn’t easier said than done.

Ruby was walking back now. Weiss looked… scared? Worried? Qrow couldn’t place the expression. She wasn’t happy; emotions were complex. Who was he to decide how she was feeling? He’d missed the conversation anyway. Pointless. Useless. How could he help when he could barely be present with them? How could he reassure them?

He _should_ reassure them.

But what if they didn’t want him there? What if the Apathy had been the final straw. It had been his fault. They must know that, despite the kind looks and comforting words. They blamed him… did they?

Fuck. _Did they?_ It was so hard. How could he know. Part of him wanted to fight back against the thoughts; it was a mistake, they’ve forgiven you, you’re loved.

But did he believe that? Really? How did he know? Which thoughts were his? Were any - were all? How was he supposed to keep track? Did everyone feel like this?

Or was it just him - damaged and failing and _broken._

Gates slammed shut. Yang looked at him. He tried to smile, he wasn’t sure if he achieved it. He felt hollow, blank. What did she expect of him - what did she _need?_ What if he couldn’t provide it? What if he just let her down again?

And of course he would. That’s what he did. All he did. Let people down. Fail.

_No._

No it wasn’t that bad. That was dramatic. Stupid. He needed to pull himself together. He had to be there this time. He could be there. He’d make it right.

He just… needed a drink. To drown out the noise.

It would help. Except it wouldn’t. And it hadn’t. With the Apathy it had actively made it worse. But he couldn’t do anything in this state. He was useless, worse than useless. A hinderance. A failure. And he needed to stop thinking like that. Why was he so self absorbed. His problems were the same as everyone else here, and he was older. He should be leading the way. Showing them things would be fine. Things _would_ be fine. They’d work out. Except what if they didn’t.

And why had James not made preparations for them? Qrow had sent a letter… he did send it? He remembered sending it.

Stop doubting. James must just not have received it yet. Maybe he would and he’d send word to escort them. Maybe that was the way out of this? But maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he’d never receive it, or he’d received it and ignored it.

Because he didn’t want Qrow anymore.

No. That was ridiculous. Stupid. Self absorbed. James knew it was about more than Qrow. There was a gravity to the situation that James would get, no matter what his personal feelings were. He wouldn’t let them get in the way.

Stop doubting.

Pull yourself together.

Just, get a drink first. It helps. It always helps.

It never helps.

Why was it so difficult, so confusing. Why was Ruby looking at him like that, like her sister. Concerned? He was worrying them. Good, maybe they’d take notice. Maybe they’d help? He was drowning.

He needed… needed what? Needed them to know he was there for them? Was he?

No, they couldn’t know. He couldn’t _tell_ them. He was the responsible one. The adult. As much as he wanted them to notice him struggling, the thought was mortifying. And what if they already knew? What then? Did they think less of him because of it? No, give them more credit. They loved him, they would try to understand. And fuck. Because what if he didn’t deserve that. Their love and understanding?

What if they’d be better off without him? _No._ That was stupid, and untrue and he was angry with himself for even going there. It was fucking self pity, nothing more. And yet. What if?

A drink. _Yes._ That was the plan. Then things would be better. He’d be back in control and free from the messy contradictory swirl in his mind. From the black threads of thought knotted together and linked even when they made no sense; impossible to untangle; ever present; all consuming.

Ruby fell into step. He could barely look at her. She was disappointed. Always disappointed. Everyone. Because of him. Because he couldn’t do what everyone else could. Couldn’t get out of his own head even for long enough to tell her things would work out. It wasn’t like he didn’t try. But if he opened his mouth then he really didn’t know what would come out. He was just as likely to terrify her as reassure her. He didn’t know what was better - for him to say it was fine, or to tell the truth. What even was the truth?

It was paralysing.

Wanting to act but not knowing how. Wanting to help and support and take responsibility without knowing what words would have the impact he wanted. She was watching him. What did she _want?_ What did she need to hear? He’d tell her, if he knew. But what if he made it worse? It wasn’t worth it. Better to be a silent disappointment than to prove it out loud.

He picked up the pace. She wasn’t following. Good. She didn’t need to see this. Even if he needed her to. Did he? Did he want to be stopped?

He didn’t know. He just wanted the damn thoughts to let up. Nothing he could do was right. There was no good option.

Drink to quiet the thoughts and he’d let them down. 

Tell them he was struggling and he’d let them down.

Again. Because he always let them down, didn’t he? Wasn’t that all he did? Fail. Try but always fail.

And pretending he was fine wasn’t an option at the moment. Because how did fine people act? He didn’t know. Couldn’t remember. It had been too long.

The fucking drama of it all.

Why couldn’t he just be like the others. They all had the same problems facing them. Why were things so large and messed up in his mind that he couldn’t shelve them neatly away like they all seemed to? Was something wrong with him? Or was this just how he was. Broken or incomplete. Or both.

It was terrifying.

The thought that maybe this feeling would never go away. That this was who he would always be. Lost. Trying hard but always always falling short.

He ordered a drink. Downed it.

Then another.

The buzz receded. It was helping. It was fucked up but it was helping. It was like a fog descending, obscuring the things he couldn’t - or didn’t know how - to deal with. 

He’d get through today. He knew that now. He could finally breathe again. 

Tomorrow might be better. 

Maybe.

At least he’d make it.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave nice comments or none at all. This is difficult for me.


End file.
